Mark Ruffalo and Miley Cyrus

So much noise lately–first Mark Ruffalo lends his voice to the pro-abortionist cacophony, then Miley Cyrus lends that and a bunch of other body parts to our monkeys-on-display culture.

I have not and will not watch the Miley display. Poor girl. But I have read the Ruffalo letter and found it remarkably resonant to both situations.

Ruffalo describes his mother’s abortion as

“traumatizing…shameful, and sleazy, and demeaning.”

He is right. All abortion is traumatizing, shameful, sleazy, and demeaning.

There are plenty of places where prostitution is legal, but there is no place on the planet where it is anything but “traumatizing, shameful, sleazy, and demeaning.”

A point Ms. Cyrus has just proved rather infamously on a public stage in front of millions of people.

Abortion, prostitution, and this much publicized burlesque–so much in common, and none of it–none of it–raises the dignity of women.

You can make a great many immoral acts legal–SCOTUS has proved this over the course of the years, but no matter how legal a thing is, if it ever was “traumatizing, shameful, sleazy, and demeaning”…it still is.

Anatomy Lesson

Mark 7:20-23 (NIV)
He went on: “What comes out of a man is what makes him `unclean.’ [21] For from within, out of men’s hearts, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, [22] greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly. [23] All these evils come from inside and make a man `unclean.’ ”

Think of this as your house
Or the room you rent somewhere
Clean, spare or messy
With or without a maid.

Now you are inside
This home you have made
A party for intimates–strange names
Evil Thoughts
Sits on the couch
Sexual Immorality stirs the drinks at the dinette
Theft, Murder, and Adultery scan your copious
Movie collection
You scan the crowd
Know all their names
After all you invited them here,
These friends with monster faces.

You realize
Perhaps too late
You cannot evict them
They hold the deed to your heart
Which is conveniently ensconced in a bowl surrounded by chips on the coffee table

Of the life you once assumed
Was yours
Alone

No more